In a Sky Full of Stars (I Think I Saw You)
by xxredwineandambiencexx
Summary: A series of moments as seen through the eyes of Niklaus Mikaelson as he meets and falls in love with Queen Caroline Forbes. Set in the Uneasy Lies the Head that Wears the Crown Universe.
1. Chapter 1

**Disclaimer: I do not own The Vampire Diaries or its characters. If I did, The Originals would never have happened, Kol would be alive and happily causing mayhem somewhere, and Klaus and Caroline would be travelling the world and sexing it up. **

**A/N: This scene is set before we meet Caroline in Uneasy Lies, when Klaus is seriously injured on his border mission with Enzo and loses most of his unit. **

**Title from Coldplay's A Sky Full of Stars**

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><p>His story begins on a beautiful autumn day, in a garden in the depths of the palace grounds in the capital city of Qirevia. Or so they say, the historians that chronicle his and Caroline's relationship with such loving detail.<p>

But that isn't true. His story begins with a flash of lightning and the sound of gunshots. His story begins with a bullet that almost kills him, burying itself deep into his chest and prying through muscle and tissue and bone.

His story begins with a gasp and an exhale, in a bright, stark, hospital room. His story begins when he looks at his younger brother _half brother _a voice echoes in his head, societal conventions conditioning him even though he hasn't been around that world for years now.

Henrik shouldn't be here, he can't imagine why he is here. He certainly doesn't possess the clearance level to be here, and Henrik is supposed to be safely tucked away at a university campus in far off Serisa.

"I thought you were dead." Henrik says bluntly, upon discovering that he's awake. It seems to be a family trait with the Mikaelson's, every other one of his siblings possessing that same self depreciating sense of humour, that same bluntness and way of speaking that left no room for beating around the bush or hidden meanings behind their words.

He squeezes his eyes shut again, trying to block out the rest of the world and the memory of the thunder and the lightning and men dropping like pins around him, and Marcel, his best friend Marcel dying in his arms before the bullet took him and everything went black.

"Aren't I?"

Not even 24 hours later another sibling comes to visit, and it's not one that he was expecting. Rebekah maybe, if she could tear herself away from the palace long enough, even Kol, his erratic, brilliantly crazy, loving younger brother.

But neither of them would be aware of his current situation, neither of the two privy to the sort of work he does in the forces, the sort of border missions he's run in the past. The only person that even had inkling was his father, and that was only because he had been an ex special forces soldier himself.

But it was Elijah that showed up after soldiers had dragged Henrik from the room to reprimand him, and a part of him thinks that Elijah chose this particular time in the day for that very reason.

Elijah looks as put together as always, perfectly tailored designer suit, dress shoes squeaking against the linoleum of the floor as he drags a chair easily over to the side of his bed and sits, looking and seeming as if he had all the time in the world to be here, like he didn't have more pressing matters to attend to.

His eyes flick over his older brother, spots the tell tale signs of the holster that Elijah apparently wears everywhere. He would stop and question when that started occurring, but he and Elijah never really had much to do with each other these days. He'd heard whispers that Elijah had worked intelligence in the past, but he had no idea to what extent or whether he still did.

Elijah pours him a cup of water, and he reaches out for it gratefully, careful to not pull too much at the bandages that wrap around his chest and torso in a constricting embrace.

"Hello Niklaus." Elijah begins, leaning forward slightly. His tone is formal, slightly cautious as if he's not sure what to expect from this meeting. Elijah doesn't ask how he is, and for that he's sort of grateful. He can only imagine the string of colourful curse words and broken objects that would be strewn across the room.

"Elijah." He states warily in return, because he's not exactly sure what his errant sibling is doing here. They share a mother and that's really all they have in common, all they've ever needed to have in common.

He's quite sure that Elijah is here on official business, but in that infuriating way of his he knows that Elijah won't reveal anything until he's good and ready.

"I'm here on official and unofficial business." Elijah smiles, a blink and you miss it moment that stuns him into silence. He could count on one hand the number of times that he's associated with Elijah in the past couple of years, the amount of times he's smiled even less.

He presses a button to raise his bed to a sitting position, because he has a feeling that he's in for a long sort of conversation. He has to hide his wince, a fresh twinge of pain twisting in his chest beneath layers of bandage and cloth.

"In light of recent events, and taking into account your injuries, your superior officers have decided that an honourable discharge is in order. I'm sorry." Elijah allows as he opens the manila folder in front of him.

He delivers the news in a neutral tone, like he hadn't just shattered his entire world. The forces were all he had. He'd never gone to university, never had any interest in doing anything other than serving his Queen and country.

He squeezes his eyes shut for a moment. The news wasn't entirely unexpected, it would be a while before he was back to his full range of motion, let alone allowed to serve in the special forces again if ever.

"I'm not sure how up to date you're being kept on current events." Elijah continues lightly, like he hadn't just delivered the news that would change everything for him. "But five days ago the Queen was in a car accident. She died of her injuries in hospital."

He gapes at Elijah in shock. Whatever news he'd been expecting, it certainly hadn't been that. Queen Elizabeth Forbes had always seemed like one of those larger than life figures, destined to rule forever, to live forever. She would have only been in her forties at the time of her death.

"That would mean that her daughter Caroline…" He trails off, looking towards Elijah for help. He'd never been one to frequent court, and although he was aware of the existence of Elizabeth Forbes' heir he'd never cared enough to find out more about the girl.

"Caroline is the Queen now. She signed the document of succession in parliament yesterday. There was also an attempt made on her life."

"How unfortunate." He voices dryly, because assassination attempts were sort of a thing when it came to high profile figures in society. Why should a Queen apparent be anything different?

Elijah stares at him significantly, waiting for him to catch on to what he's trying to say. And then finally the other shoe drops, and he shakes his head emphatically.

"Absolutely not." He delivers in a flat voice as Elijah visibly rolls his eyes. "What makes you think that I'd want to babysit a spoilt royal brat?"

Elijah flinches at his delivery, sniffing at him through his nose.

"On the contrary, Caroline is a very capable and intelligent young woman, and you'll find her very different from her mother. You don't have to give me an answer yet. But think on it, and if you're interested I can arrange a meeting."

He pauses for a moment for gazing at Elijah, trying to fathom what his motivations could possibly be.

"Why me?"

Elijah looks uncomfortable for a moment, shifting in his chair before leaning forward.

"Because funnily enough, I trust you enough to keep her safe."

* * *

><p>Three days later he emerges blinking into another bright autumn day. He's got a duffel bag slung over his shoulder, dog tags at his neck, and aviators over his eyes. His body is stitched back together but his mind isn't quite there yet, troubled thoughts still chasing around his mind in circles like thunderclouds that won't go away.<p>

It's with a sort of clinical precision that he sounds out the surnames of those that didn't survive, one after the other like a mantra, something he can't ever forget or forgive.

His eyes sweep over the secure parking lot they're in, the military base on the northern border one that exists only to those with a clearance level high enough to know about it. It's something he's trained to do, probably something he'll always do. Check for danger, check for exits, and always sit with his back against the wall.

He's not surprised to see his father waiting for him, arms crossed over his chest and that gaze always so calm and knowing. The men standing guard at the entrance of the base are looking at Thomas Windsor with barely concealed awe, despite him not having anything to do with the military for a good 10 or so years now.

His father doesn't make any move to hug him, or to show any signs of affection. They've never needed actions to convey just how much they love and care for each other, and it's something that he's grateful for right now as Thomas takes the bag from him and deposits it into the back of the SUV carefully.

His father waits until he's climbed into the passenger's side and closed the door before putting his foot to the accelerator and getting the hell out of there.

The drive is silent for the most part as he rests his temple wearily against the cool glass of the window. It'll be a long one, about three and a half hours until he's back at the ancient seat of the Windsor's at Chatswood.

He hasn't been there for almost 2 years now, always living on one base or another along the border as he did his duty to his country. Home is a completely foreign concept to him.

It's an hour later, when his father finally decides to break the comfortable silence.

"I've heard that you've been offered a job. Guarding the Queen." He clarifies as he glances at his father in surprise.

"How did you know about that?"

The older many smiles wryly.

"Elijah mentioned it to me on his way out. I think it's a rather unique opportunity you know. He left me his business card, to give to you if you showed interest in the position."

"It sounds like the most boring job in the world." He grumbles as Thomas shoots him a sharp glance.

"It's nothing to be ashamed of you know. What happened to your unit was wrong, but there is life after the forces. Even if it might seem like there isn't."

He winces when he slumps further in his seat, twinges of pain lancing through his body at an alarming rate. Making a mental note to not repeat that movement he sits up once more.

"Just promise me you'll think on it okay?"

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><p>Time ceases to hold any meaning, in those cool autumn days following his arrival back at Chatsworth. The household staff, the two or three that remained with Thomas on the estate at a permanent basis said nothing to him of his return, instead treating him as cordially as they ever had.<p>

He wanders around the estate like a ghost, book in hand and a restless mind. Nothing seems to capture his attention for longer than a few minutes. The book that he'd once held such pleasure in could no longer draw his concentration.

He paints. He paints restlessly, furiously, covering canvas after canvas with angry streaks of black and red and grey.

He can't sleep properly. They'd given him a handful of drugs to take each week for PTSD, said that it would get better with time but he'd flushed them down the toilet as soon as he'd been left alone.

Some nights he regrets it, when his mind can't help but replay the events of that pitch black, storming night, the hiss of bullets flying past his head, the crack and roll of thunder shaking the earth beneath his feet.

Loud sounds get him as well, and that's when things get real dark, real quick. The sound of a car backfiring has him pressed against the wall shaking like a leaf in a storm, and it's only his father's gentle voice that can bring him back to earth again.

Another time the shattering sound of glass against stone in the kitchen has him ducking for cover, crouching behind the table in the dining room with his cheek pressed into his knee as he squeezes his eyes shut against the onslaught of memories.

And he wonders how he's going to be able to go out into society again, let alone guard the most important person in this country like Elijah and Thomas are so keen on him doing.

He doesn't Google Caroline Forbes. He could, the high speed internet at Chatsworth second only to that in the Palace he's told. But for some reason he doesn't. If he is going to meet her, he'd rather go in without any preconceived notions of her.

Instead, some weeks later he asks his father as they work their way through splitting a pile of firewood for the upcoming winter.

"I'm afraid I haven't seen her since she was a little girl." Thomas replies, driving his axe into a stump of wood and wiping at his brow with his sleeve. "But from all reports she's incredibly intelligent, and kind, and caring."

"Will she have the strength though; to do what needs to be done with Acamos? To carry on her mother's work?" He points out, swinging the axe over his head and down to the piece of wood in front of him. It splits cleanly in two and he reaches down with gloved hands to toss it into the rapidly growing pile.

Thomas sits, thoughtful expression painted across his features.

"I think she'll do what she thinks is right. She's different, from her mother you know. Less hardened to the world. There's something innocent about her, although that might just be her age. And she's very beautiful." Thomas adds, almost as an afterthought.

He refrains from rolling his eyes, coming to take a seat beside his father. Almost unbidden, Thomas reaches out and cards a hand through his hair, slightly longer now that he'd been discharged.

It's an affectionate motion, one that happens only in the quiet times when he really needs it.

"It won't be like this forever you know. It gets better, in a fashion."

The next morning he's up with the sunrise, yoga mat stretched out on his balcony as he welcomes the dawn. The gentle movements help more than he ever thought they would, muscle memory taking over as he flows gently through the poses, ever mindful of the stitches that he'd probably have taken out later.

He goes to find his father after, who hands him Elijah's business card with a smile. He flips the small piece of stock card over and over as he returns once more to his balcony, bringing his phone to his ear after he's dialled the unfamiliar number.

Elijah picks up on the second ring, voice and tone as polite as ever as he murmurs out a greeting.

He conveys his intentions in stammered tones, feeling unusually out of his depth. There's a long pause before Elijah replies, giving him a date and a time to present himself at the palace.

And just like that he has a meeting with a Queen.

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><p><strong>AN: Hey guys! This came to me after reading Uneasy Lies again and realising just how much of Klaus' POV we'd missed throughout the journey. <strong>

**This won't be an exact mirror of Uneasy Lies. It'll be structured more like a series of snapshots and one shot, not necessarily in any sort of chronological order.**

**So here's the deal! Hit me up with a review and tell me a scene that you were dying to see in Uneasy Lies that you didn't get to see. If it's within my ability to write it and it makes sense within the universe I'll write it up as a chapter and dedicate it to you!**

**At this point in time I would prefer that we stick to just Klaus as a character, however it can involve any other character e.g. moments between Klaus and Thomas, or Klaus and Kol, or Klaus and Caroline of course!**

**This is thanks for all of you for sticking with me through Uneasy Lies. I know it was a journey! I also think it's a nice little way to expand the universe that I've fallen in love with!**

**Klaus refers to Thomas by his name rather than 'father' simply because the two are like best friends as well as father and son. **

**I'm still working on A Billion Lights fyi, so never fear!**


	2. Chapter 2 (For Angelikah)

**Disclaimer: I do not own The Vampire Diaries or its characters. If I did, The Originals would never have happened, Kol would be alive and happily causing mayhem somewhere, and Klaus and Caroline would be travelling the world and sexing it up. **

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><p><strong>This request came from Angelikah, who asked me to write Klaus before he sees Caroline at the yuletide ball in Chapter 10. This is when he goes home to be with his father while Thomas is ill and the days following while they're separated. <strong>

**For me as a writer, when they were reunited at the Yuletide Ball Klaus had well and truly realised that he had feelings for Caroline. Chapter 10 of Uneasy Lies was such a joy for me to write, so Angelikah I hope you and everyone else enjoys!**

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><p>His official summons back to the palace comes in the form of text message from his sister. It's barely decipherable and full of emoticons and other strange characters that he has no idea the meaning of, but he gets the general gist of the message.<p>

He'd been counting on avoiding the annual Yuletide Ball this year, especially now that he was pretty much duty bound to attend it to keep an eye on Caroline, albeit from a distance. Given that he was also a Windsor and now the sole representative of his family at Court, he had twice as many reasons to attend.

Two weeks had passed since he'd left the palace, more than enough time for his father to recuperate and be on his feet again. In truth there was really no need for him to be here. His father had always been more than capable of taking care of himself, and had his own household staff to assist with meals and medicine where required.

No, he hadn't needed to be here. And his father had figured that out right away, almost as soon as he'd showed up on the doorstep in the middle of the night.

"You're running from something. What is it?" Thomas questions him one night while they're sitting by the fire.

There's a blanket tucked around Thomas' knees, a bowl of soup balanced on his lap. The heat from the fire is almost too much for him to bear, but his father had always ran a little hotter than normal, as crazy as it seemed.

"I'm not running from anything." He replies promptly, glass of whiskey held in hand, fire glinting off the glass in an odd pattern. He holds the liquid up to the light, giving it an experimental swirl before taking a long sip.

"It's Caroline isn't it?" Thomas sighs as he sets his bowl of soup aside on an end table. "Do you have feelings for her?"

"I am not having this conversation with you." He drains the rest of his drink, getting to his feet quickly.

"Sit down." His father snaps suddenly, and he jumps in surprise. He could count on one hand the number of times his father had raised his voice in his presence in recent years.

But he acquiesces, sinking down into the lounge chair and turning once more to face his father.

"What are you afraid of?"

He stops to ponder his father's question. What was he afraid of really, when it came to Caroline?

The most obvious fear was that he wasn't good enough for her. She was so beautiful and strong, so full of light and life. She came from a respectable family, had a university degree under her belt, and was successfully running a small country.

She hadn't done questionable things, awful things, in the name of her country. She hadn't been exposed to torture and bullets and blood.

It was the intensity of his feelings that surprised him as well. He wasn't really sure when they solidified into something real looking back he couldn't exactly pin point the exact moment when he realised that his idle curiosity had turned into respect and affection towards her.

It was a less obvious fear, that she didn't reciprocate these new feelings that were both strange and awful to him. It felt strange, to not be the one to have control in their dynamic, relying on her to act upon any intentions she might have had towards him.

"You are a Windsor." His father begins softly. "You come from a long line of rulers and conquerors and warriors. The blood that runs in your veins ran in theirs. And even if you might not believe it, you are good enough for her. Perhaps it's time that you start believing it yourself. Now tell me again. What are you afraid of?"

He takes a deep breath, settling for the most obvious answer.

"Everything. I'm afraid of everything."

This time when he gets up to leave, his father doesn't stop him.

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><p>He's painting with a quiet, mindless intensity when his phone rings loudly, startling him out of his reverie.<p>

He drops his paintbrush and reaches for a rag to wipe his hands on, white and gold paint spattered all over his hands.

He glances only once at the name on the screen before hitting the speaker button on his phone and picking up his paintbrush once more.

"Stefan." He greets his old friend mildly, bringing brush to canvas once more. "To what do I owe this pleasure?"

Stefan's call although unexpected is not entirely unwelcome. As always though, he senses an ulterior motive here, something that is confirmed with Stefan's next words.

"Rebekah would like to know if you received her message. She hasn't yet had a reply from you or so she says."

"I did receive the message. I chose not to reply." He corrects Stefan in a sing song voice.

Taking another glance at the portrait that he's painting, he flings down his brush with a growl and scoops up the phone, pushing open the glass doors to the balcony beyond.

"Let's not beat around the bush mate. Tell me why you called."

There's silence on Stefan's end for only a moment.

"I'm worried about Caroline actually. If your father is well I think its best that you return to the palace."

He sighs, massaging his temple with one hand, no doubt smearing paint into the skin and hair there.

"And what makes you think that I'll be able to do anything about it?" He asks patiently.

Stefan scoffs.

"Both of you are ridiculous. You're kidding yourself if you think that she doesn't miss you, that she doesn't think about you while you're gone. She's never been one to show her emotions outwardly. A trait you seem to have in common it would seem."

His breath catches in his throat at Stefan's words as he stares out over the grounds of Chatsworth, over the neatly manicured lawns and gardens that he'd played on as a child.

"She cares for you Klaus. A great deal if I know Caroline as well as I do. And she'd never call you back before you were ready because she's selfless like that. I know you hate the idea of the Yuletide Ball. But I want you to be there, and step into my place."

"Are you aware of the sort of message that would send?" He asks the youngest Salvatore pleasantly. Stefan makes a noise of assent.

"More than aware actually. But I think both of you need the push. I'm honestly sick to death of the two of you dancing around each other. Look just think about it okay? You don't have to give me a definite answer right now, but just let me know either way what you're doing."

Stefan hangs up abruptly as he just pulls the phone away from his ear and shakes his head.

And paints through the rest of the afternoon and well into the night and finally, finally he steps back and views the portrait through tired eyes.

It's done in renaissance style, every detail painstakingly created from memory, elegant strokes of paint forming a breathtaking portrait of their current Queen.

It had been a cathartic sort of process, to get all of his emotions and feelings out onto a canvas. A way of forgetting. A way of pushing down his feelings.

It also hadn't worked, he realised as he sat and stared at the portrait. There's a gentle tapping on his door, but he doesn't turn his head, knowing that it's going to be his father.

"It's exquisite." Thomas says softly, leaning forward to inspect the still drying paint on the canvas. "You should show this to her."

"One day, maybe." He muses out loud, wiping wearily at his hands with the same rag from before.

He accepts the plate of food that Thomas hands him gratefully, digging into the meal with relish.

"They want me to return to the palace. To step in for Stefan at the ball." He says only after he's finished his dinner and set aside the plate.

"And is this something you wish?" His father asks gently, a steady hand reaching out to rest on his shoulder.

"I'm worried about what people will think if I do."

He's surprised when his father starts to laugh, hand squeezing his shoulder imperceptibly.

"Oh Nik. Since when have you ever cared what people thought about you?"

Well then.

* * *

><p>"Your timing as always brother is impeccable." Kol begins as he falls into step with his younger brother.<p>

He was cutting it a bit close for time, choosing instead to set off for the palace in the morning rather than late last night. As such he hadn't arrived until late afternoon, the traffic in the Capital absolutely horrendous as the car had drawn closer to the palace.

Kol pulls out his phone, hitting speed dial and holding the device up to his here.

"He's here. Yes in the flesh Bekah." Kol explains patiently to his sister. "I'll see him to his suite and see that he's properly attired yes."

He rolls his eyes as Kol wraps up his phone call, taking the back way towards his suite, which was in the adjacent hallway to Caroline's. He wasn't expecting to run into her, but all the same he thought it best to play safe and go along with the surprise that his siblings and Stefan had decided to cook up.

"Rebekah organised you a tux." Kol says as he shoulders his way into the suite. "As I recall she said something along the lines of she can't trust you to find something suitable for yourself. Apparently it's Armani you lucky bastard. I have to settle for Lanvin." Kol says somewhat enviously.

"You realise that those labels hold absolutely no meaning to me whatsoever? By all means help yourself." He waves dismissively towards the garment bag hanging from the doors of his wardrobe, a white piece of paper pinned to the outside.

_Don't fuck it up_

_-R_

Delightful as ever, his little sister was.

"You should probably shower, Stefan will be here soon to brief you on the waltz. This is going to be fantastic." Kol pronounces with great relish as he claps his hands together. He sighs, wondering exactly what frame of mind he was in when he agreed to Stefan's request.

Obviously not a sane one, since he was here and stripping off his clothes. Kol settles in on his bed, texting furiously away on his phone as he closes the bathroom door behind him with a snap.

He showers quickly, stopping to use the sandalwood body wash that Rebekah had got him as a present upon arriving to start work at the palace.

Kol is in the exact same place that he left him as he emerges from the bathroom, towel wrapped around his waist and steam billowing from the room. The sun is just beginning to set, earlier than usual considering the season.

Kol is dressed in his tux, hair artfully disarrayed in a way that makes it seem like he'd just rolled out of bed.

Stefan's leaning up against the doorway, amusement sparkling in those ridiculous green eyes of his.

"I couldn't believe it when you rang me last night to say yes. Your sister has incredible foresight." Stefan allows with a wicked smile.

"My sister knows me too well." He grumbles as he grabs the garment bag from the door and disappears back into the bathroom to change.

He's never been one for bow ties, and Rebekah had very pointedly left him one in the garment bag. He was absolutely hopeless at tying them, and Kol and Stefan as he quickly discovered weren't much better.

It's Kol that comes up with a solution for them, calling Rebekah once more on his phone.

"We're having a crisis of the bow tie variety." Kol tells her jovially, and Rebekah emits a string of colourful curse words that makes his eyebrows shoot into his hairline. She certainly hadn't learnt them from him.

Not even a minute later Rebekah comes storming into his room, gaze softening when her eyes land on him. Gently, she sits him on the edge of the bed, stepping between his knees and reaching for the scrap of material around his neck.

She goes through the steps one by one, explaining gently what she's doing and why she's doing it that particular way. It only takes a minute as she makes some last minute adjustments here and there.

"Thankyou." He tells her softly, hand squeezing her hip briefly before he stands. Rebekah nods once to him before turning to her brother and Stefan.

"I suppose you two require assistance as well?" She asks with a sigh as Stefan nods sheepishly.

"Actually I seem to conveniently have misplaced my own bow tie. What a shame." Kol announces to the room with an exaggerated sigh.

"You're an idiot Kol." Rebekah spits towards her brother as she quickly knots Stefan's bow tie as well. The youngest Salvatore stares down at her with an awed smile before pressing a gentle kiss to her forehead, perhaps very much aware that there were two of her brothers in the room with him that could creatively murder him in half a dozen different ways between the two of them.

Undoubtedly Kol would probably carry his methods out with less finesse, but it was the thought that counted really.

"I'd best get going and help Caroline into her dress. Stefan can you please make sure that Nik makes it to the ball room in one piece? Gloves and shoes are in that box there." She motions with a regal tilt of her head before sweeping out of the room as quickly as she'd entered.

Stefan helps him into his jacket, handing him white gloves to pull onto his hands. They're only required once a year at this particular event, something that he's eternally grateful for because he hates wearing them.

It's Kol that finally ushers them out of the suite and into the hallway like a concerned mother hen, pulling the door to the suite shut behind them.

"It's just a simple waltz, nothing fancy." Stefan begins as the three of them wind their way towards the centre of the palace and the ballroom. The sound of voices gradually reaches his ears, and he cocks his head curiously towards the source of the noise.

"You'll wait for her in the middle of the floor and she'll come to join you. She'll be expecting it's me of course, so I imagine she'll be rather surprised and happy to see you." Stefan continues as they join the stream of well dressed partygoers entering the ballroom.

Damon steps into their path suddenly, bright blue eyes giving him an obvious once over, an approving smile settling on his lips.

"You scrub up well Windsor. Good to see you." Damon allows with a nod, one that he returns almost on auto pilot.

He allows his gaze to drift around the ballroom slowly, taking in two hundred or so guests that were lucky enough to get an invite. There were no foreign dignitaries save the ambassadors of differing countries. Undoubtedly Serisa and Acamos would be having their own celebrations to begin the Christmas season.

"She's on her way. Klaus, it's time." Stefan cuts in gently, startling him from his thoughts.

Stefan nudges him gently out onto the floor, and he's very much aware of two hundred or so pairs of eyes that swivel to follow his every step.

He lets an impassive mask slip into place as he steps further into the centre of the floor, hands clasped calmly behind his back as he turns towards the doors and waits.

The whispers start at the same time that the herald bangs his staff on the floor and announces Caroline.

And then the doors open, and his breath catches in his throat.

Caroline has always been stunning but tonight she looks powerful. She looks beautiful. Her gown is creamy beige, long sleeved, delicately beaded, her tiara sparkling from where it's perched in her curls.

He sees her sweep her gaze quickly around the ball room, skirts held in her hands. Her face falls and her gaze casts towards the floor as she drifts closer towards him. He holds out a gloved hand towards her as she draws nearer, and she reaches out and takes it dismissively, almost on auto pilot as she drops her skirts.

And he racks his brains, thinking of a way to make her smile again, because she looks so sad and so disappointed.

"Chin up sweetheart, and let me see that smile." He cajoles gently and her head jerks up to look at him with shock.

Her eyes drink him in hungrily, like it's been a lifetime since she's last seen him. Her mouth is still slightly agape as she continues to stare, and he winks quickly at her as he squeezes her hand reassuringly before guiding it to his shoulder.

"You're here." Is all she can say as he places his hand on her waist, holding out the other for her ever patiently.

"I never planned on missing it." He answers, and it's true really now he thinks on it. He couldn't imagine not being here tonight, not seeing her dressed like this. "Stefan was gracious enough to step beside tonight. I hope you don't mind?" He asks of her cautiously, because despite his feelings he's still unsure as to whether she reciprocates them.

He's surprised then, when she leans forward and rests her forehead against his chest. He has to bend to hear her next whispered sentence, but he's helpless to stop the smile from spreading across his face when he does.

"I was hoping you'd come."

They dance. He's been brought up on the waltz, his father bringing in instructors so that he might learn when he presents himself at court one day. He hadn't particularly enjoyed dancing lessons, but he'd taken to it like a duck to water.

A born natural, his instructors had declared. As such he's infinitely glad that his lessons seemed to have paid off as he steers Caroline around various couples and pairings, before looking both ways and tugging her out of the ballroom.

Her hand is warm in his and he squeezes it gently, turning suddenly to take in the sight of her from head to toe. She shifts from one foot to another, blush colouring her cheeks and a shy smile upon her face as she blinks up at him.

"You look beautiful. As always." He finally admits to her, realising just how much he's missed her, just how much he missed having her around. He can't stop himself from bending down and brushing his lips against her forehead gently, the first time he's made such an obvious overture towards her. "Hello."

They exchange pleasantries as he offers her his arm, wishing more than anything that he can steal her away for the rest of the night. They wander languidly across the entrance hall, finally settling on a cushioned bench just outside the ballroom.

They talk only for a few moments before he relinquishes her to Damon, and then he loses her for an hour or so. He dances with his sister mainly, before retiring to the bar, eyes tracking Caroline carefully until she's safely in the arms of Stefan.

"You are so smitten." Rebekah pronounces with glee as she waves down the bartender for a drink. "This is great." She adds, echoing Kol's words from earlier.

"Stop smirking, it doesn't become you." He scolds his younger sister, who rolls her eyes towards him good naturedly.

Both of them turn just in time to see Caroline jam her heel into Kol's instep, their brother bending over in obvious pain as he hisses out a curse through gritted teeth.

Rebekah just sighs, placing her glass on the bar top.

"I suppose I should go and see what that's about." She admits, even as Caroline glides towards them, serene smile on her face.

He motions to the bartender, drink placed in front of him within seconds. He takes the opportunity to palm the glass to Caroline, enjoying the warmth of her hand against his for a moment, apparent even through the heat of her elbow length white gloves.

Time drags, and he has to stop himself from yawning as he dances with her in his arms once more. They soon shed all sense of formality as the night begins to wind down, and soon enough he notes that she is just as seemingly as exhausted as he is.

He doesn't hesitate to sweep her up into his arms once they've left the hall, shoes dangling from her fingers as she rests her head against his chest with a wearied sigh. It's a comfortable weight, reassuring as she digs her fingers into his chest absentmindedly with a soft hum.

It takes a bit of manoeuvring to get into her suite, but she lets him set her down, and she doesn't stop him when he gently pulls her tiara from her head.

It's heavier than he was expecting, the weight of dozens of diamonds intricately crafted with precious metal pressing into his hands. And he wonders how she could have worn such a burden on her head for so many hours.

And he realises that she carries this sort of weight with her every day, even if it isn't necessarily in a physical form. Carefully, almost reverently he sets the tiara on a side table, where tomorrow no doubt it'll be returned to the high security, temperature controlled vaults in the depths of the Palace.

He feels gentle hands on his waist, looking down just in time to see Caroline bury her head into the fabric of his shirt with a content sigh. Her hands tighten on his waist and he hears her breath hitch when he smooths some errant curls back from her forehead.

And when she looks at him his mouth goes dry. He does the calculations quickly in his head. It would take less than a second to close the distance between them and kiss her, another before he could have her legs wrapped around his waist.

It would take perhaps five seconds for him to cross the short distance to press her into her mattress, taking into account the weight of her in his arms. Maybe two minutes to get her out of the dress.

But he doesn't want it to be like this. He has all the time in the world, to wait for her to come to him. And he thinks that it's something that she needs to do, to be brave enough to let him into her life fully.

So he won't ever push her. She's still blinking up at him, blue eyes dark with desire and clouded with tiredness. He forces his lips into a ghost of a smile as he shakes his head imperceptibly.

"Not like this." He murmurs gently to her, pressing a ghost of a kiss to her cheek.

"Will you spend the day with me tomorrow? I want to show you something." Caroline returns quietly, hand tightening on his jacket, preventing him from stepping back like he knows that he should.

He agrees quickly, hand cupping her cheek.

"You're making it incredibly hard for me to leave you know."

"You don't have to leave." She counters with a shrug and another one of those unsettling gazes.

"Yes I do." He replies, untangling her hand from his jacket and pressing it to his lips. He takes a step back. "Tomorrow, usual time."

Caroline nods, not bothering to hide her yawn this time.

"Tomorrow then."

* * *

><p><strong>AN: <strong>

**I quite enjoyed writing this one, good choice Angelikah! I loved writing more of the dynamics between the Mikaelson siblings, the small moments between Klaus and Rebekah and Kol and Klaus were amongst my favourite parts to write. **

**Getting to flesh out Klaus a little more for you guys was an interesting challenge as well!**

**At this point in time the requests I have from you guys are as follows:**

**IamKatherine: Date to the ballet (from the moment that Caroline descended the stairs)**

**Peanutmm: I'm probably going to do honeymoon. Hope you don't mind!**

**Guest (Sage): First time Klaus and Caroline met and she offered him the job- starting with Klaus seeing Caroline before they formally met**

**NikMik: The moment Klaus realizes that he's fallen for Caroline**

**Au courant: I'm trying to clarify yours, but it's on the list!**

**I will try my hardest to stick to the order that these were requested in!**


	3. Chapter 3 (For IamKatherine)

**Disclaimer: I do not own The Vampire Diaries or its characters. If I did, The Originals would never have happened, Kol would be alive and happily causing mayhem somewhere, and Klaus and Caroline would be travelling the world and sexing it up.**

**AN: For IamKatherine. Basically Chapter 17 of Uneasy Lies in Klaus' P.O.V… and more smut. Warning kids. **

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><p>He stands in the back foyer of the palace with Stefan, tugging impatiently at the tie that his sister had <em>insisted <em>he wear. Stefan looks perfectly at ease, hair slicked back as he glances down at his obscenely expensive watch and taps his dress shoe against the marble floor.

"They're late." He mutters under his breath as Stefan glances over at him in amusement.

"They're women. They're always late." Is all the younger Salvatore says in reply. "Are you nervous?" He adds curiously, arching a single eyebrow.

He glances incredulously at Stefan.

"Now what reason could I possibly have to be nervous?"

He's bluffing of course, hoping that Stefan won't catch onto it.

"Should I list them?" Stefan begins, holding up his fingers to demonstrate. "It's your first time stepping out with Caroline in a position other than her bodyguard. It's technically your first date with her, when you stop and really think about it. Also the fact that for tonight at least, you're entrusting her safety to someone else. Stefan finishes with a kind smile. "It's perfectly normal if you are nervous."

"Maybe a little bit." He concedes, slipping his hands into his pockets. The familiar weight of his gun is missing, and it's putting him off a little, making him feel a little uneasy. "Are you mad that it's me?" He asks suddenly, instantly regretting his question.

He might not have particularly liked being in this world, but there'd been rumours for years that Stefan and Caroline would get married once they were a little bit older. The younger Salvatore was a perfect candidate to rule with Caroline; intelligent, kind, and incredibly benevolent. He didn't stand to inherit anything and there were no skeletons in his closet.

"Caroline and I were never going to be like that." Stefan replies thoughtfully. "And we both knew it. Growing up together our bond was more like those shared by siblings than anything else. She's very dear to me and I love her a lot. But I'm glad that it's you." Stefan finishes, leaning his hip against the banister and turning those green eyes on him.

"You are?" He blinks in surprise towards Stefan, who lifts a shoulder into something akin to a shrug.

"Caroline has always been a fiercely independent person, even as a little girl. It makes it hard for her to let people in. But then you came along, and you challenged everything that she ever thought she believed in. And you showed her that you were willing to look after her and care for her and be there for her. And it's been a very long time since anyone has done that for her. So yes Nik, I'm glad that it's you." Stefan finishes gently with another smile.

He straightens at the sound of voices and tears his gaze away from Stefan, turning towards the staircase as Rebekah and Caroline appear at the top. They've got their heads bent together, whispering conspiratorially about something.

And he's one lucky son of a bitch, he thinks to himself as he watches Caroline carefully descend. The dress she's wearing is a show stopping red, vibrant and bright and designed to stand out.

It's not something she'd normally wear, if the slightly uncomfortable expression on her face is anything to go by. But she looks stunning, the dress elegant and timeless and beautifully crafted.

She peeks shyly at him as she reaches over and takes his proffered hand, squeezing it gently as if to make sure he's really there. And he's speechless, lost for words as he stares down at her.

He's surprised then, when she tugs gently on his shoulder, breath hot against the side of his neck.

"Thankyou for the earrings. They're stunning." She breathes as he presses his lips into the back of her hand.

"You wear them well love. Shall we go?"

* * *

><p>She's distracting in the best possible way as she jokes with Stefan about something, and he can't keep her eyes off her.<p>

She is beautiful, and she is loved, so, so loved.

Rebekah is smirking knowingly at him as she leans over to top up his glass with more wine. He shoots her a warning glare, finally tearing his eyes away from the beautiful girl sitting next to him.

"How are you recovering Nik?" Stefan asks politely as all eyes turn to him. He's mid way through a gulp of wine and he coughs and splutters a little as he finally swallows and places his glass back on the table.

"Getting there." He replies gruffly. "It'll be some time before I'm back to full health."

"Oh I'm sure you won't let that stop you from engaging in other… activities." Rebekah pronounces with another smirk as he stares her down impassively.

Caroline's blushing now, catching onto the innuendo that Rebekah had laced amongst her words. Stefan for the most part, is fairly oblivious to their little exchange.

Under the table, he presses a foot down on Rebekah's warningly. Rebekah rolls her eyes, instead turning her attentions towards Caroline.

"So Caroline, do you have anything exciting planned for this weekend? Or are you going to spend it in bed?" Rebekah asks, one eyebrow arched as Caroline flushes red.

He sighs, brushing some hair away from her face, smoothing fingers over flushed skin.

"You'll have to ignore my sister; she has no sense of decorum in social situations." He remarks, shooting another glare at Rebekah.

Stefan reaches over and takes a gulp of his own drink, finally catching on to the hidden meaning of the conversation.

They're given a brief respite by a pair of waiters, who appear with their meals. They're left alone rather quickly, and amongst all the activity he lets his hand slip beneath the tablecloth, resting a hand casually on Caroline's knee.

She jumps, and he hides his smile, not expecting her to react quite like that. She reaches for her glass of water to hide her reaction as Rebekah and Stefan carry on the conversation.

She presses her arm against his, lips quirked into a smile when he squeezes her knee gently. But she doesn't move his hand away, and he's curious to see how far he can push her.

He slides his hand higher, back towards her thigh, fisting his hand in the fabric of that accursed dress and rubbing it gently against her skin. She stiffens slightly, picking up her knife and fork to cut into her food.

He's more than happy to eat one handed, meeting Stefan's gaze across the table evenly as the other man's eyes drift towards Caroline and then back to him with an amused smile.

It's an almost absentminded motion, he thinks to himself as his hand ducks beneath the slit of her dress, thumb rubbing circles on the inside of her thigh, skin against skin. She squeezes her thighs together, trapping his fingers as she asks Rebekah to repeat her question.

"Are you looking forward to the ballet?" Rebekah asks innocently, and he has to hide his wince as Rebekah's stiletto connects with his leg.

"Yes it should be good, I haven't gone for years." She replies hastily, reaching over for his glass of wine and taking a few gulps. Rebekah notes this with amusement, Stefan with a teasing smile on his face.

"You alright Caroline? You seem a bit… flustered." Stefan pronounces delicately. He feels her hand close around his, squeezing with all her strength, bones grinding against each other. He's surprised at the strength of her grip, and lets her transfer their joined hands back to his knee.

As fun as it is teasing her like this, he can sense that she's getting frustrated, reaching the limits of her patience. Instead, he dances his fingers along the back of her neck, lips pressing against her temple apologetically.

A short time later he slips away to take care of the bill. He's not short of money, coming from an old family who were smart with the funds that were given to them. Along with that there's his income from The Forces, a fair bit higher than the average foot soldier considering he was Special Forces and a commanding officer.

And he's glad that he can keep up with her like this, pay for things and spoil her once in a while. She deserves it.

"That was sneaky." She says quietly, sidling up next to him and sliding an arm around his waist.

"It's your night, of course I wasn't going to make you pay." He replies immediately, steering her towards the front door that Rebekah and Stefan have already stepped through, tucking his wallet back into his pants as he goes.

She reaches for his hand.

"Nik." She begins, and he has to blink down at her in surprise, because this is the first time that she's used the shortened version of his name. And it sounds different coming from her.

"Surely you must realise that this is your night as well."

* * *

><p>It's silent between them as they walk, and he's just had a staring competition with a ten year old boy, who was holding onto his mother's hand and openly gaping at them both.<p>

Caroline seems used to this sort of behaviour from random passers by on the street, and continues on as if everything was normal. This was _her _normal, he realises as he quickens his steps to catch up with her.

"I have a bone to pick with you." He murmurs into her ear, taking careful note of their surroundings as she tucks a hand into the crook of his arm.

He'll never not be okay with entrusting her safety to someone else, relying on other men to keep her out of trouble. It'll take some adjusting, and he'll probably never snap out of that familiar mode that's kept her safe for all these months.

She tilts her head towards him.

"Go on then." She allows with a nod, tone slightly wary as she no doubt runs through the dozens of possibilities, of things that he could possibly want to talk to her about.

"You see I managed to catch up on the news when I was convalescing in the hospital. And while I was channel surfing I just happened to land on a replay of a rather interesting press conference that you conducted while I was unconscious." He finishes with a smile as her face falls.

And really, it's sort of ridiculous if she possibly thought that this was something that she could keep from him, technology the way it was today.

"I can't believe you told the rest of the country you loved me before you told me." He continues with a soft laugh into her ear as she glances quickly at him.

"I also told the rest of the country that I wanted to marry you if you'd have me. So there's that as well." She replies bluntly as he pulls her to a halt.

Her words hover between them, a tangible possibility, and a glimpse of their future together, so close and yet so far away. Something just over the horizon.

He swipes a thumb over cheekbone affectionately with a smile.

"Are you proposing to me?" He asks her amusedly. "Because when I envisioned this scenario it certainly wasn't anything like this." He jokes, in an attempt to make her frown disappear.

It works as she laughs softly, keeping her voice low as she presses a kiss to his cheek, lingering at the stubble he'd so thoughtfully kept for her, knowing how much she liked it.

"Not right now. Not with everything that's going on. But I meant it you know. Every word." She murmurs as she pulls him along with her, continuing their progress towards the opera house.

He says nothing as they mount the steps together, entering the cool, marble entrance hall, their footsteps muffled by the royal blue carpet beneath their feet.

"For the record." He begins, tugging her around to face him and catching her by the waist. "I'll gladly have you, whenever you're ready."

And it seems like the most natural thing in the world to bend down and press his lips to hers, despite the audience of people milling around them.

* * *

><p><em>Two minutes. <em>She'd breathed into his ear, and it had seemed like the longest two minutes of his life since she'd left in a swirl of red and diamonds and golden curls, determined to drive him to distraction or to drive him mad, whatever came first really.

He finally stands, aware of dozens of pairs of eyes that have swivelled towards him at the sudden movement.

He's determined to remain the very picture of calm, face schooled into an impassive expression as he tugs at the sleeves of his jacket. He turns towards the back of his box, separated only from the carpeted back hallway by a red curtain.

With a nod towards the two men stationed at the door he unbuttons his jacket.

"I'm going to check on the Queen. You can both stay." He instructs and the two men nod respectfully, apparently not even fazed by the fact that he's giving them orders as a Consort rather than their boss.

His feet make no noise as he makes his way past the curtain and down the hallway, hand reaching for the finely polished black door knob and twisting.

He spots her right away, a striking figure in red against black and white and grey marble. She's hunched over the sink, hands clenched tightly around the surface as she meets his gaze in the mirror.

He reaches down and clicks the lock shut, taking his time as he reaches up and loosens his tie. He stares her down, not letting her escape his gaze as he saunters across the room towards her, pausing behind her and brushing his fingers along her spine.

It was a rather marvellous advantage of the high neck of her dress, the fact that it barely had any material covering her back. She does a full body shiver in response to the drag of fingers down her back, and he takes the opportunity to close the distance between their bodies, one hand pressing gently into her stomach and rocking her back against him.

She lets out a stuttered breath as he noses along the elegant curve of her neck, lips pressing a ghost of a kiss into a particularly sensitive spot beneath the shell of her ear if her soft gasp is anything to go by.

"Is this okay?" He breathes into her ear, one finger tipping under her chin to turn her head towards him. Her eyes are uncertain but she nods as a way of reply.

It was all he needed to lean down and claim her lips, taking his time and having his way with her. She returns his kiss uncertainly, tongue darting between his lips as she adjusts to the unfamiliar angle.

And it's a delicious feeling, to have her straining against him, upper body twisting as she tries to deepen their embrace. He lets his hand wander, across her waist and down her thigh as his hand slips beneath the slit of her dress once more.

He has her gasping into his mouth as his hand crawls towards her panties, fingers brushing over lace and cupping her gently by the fabric. And he wants nothing more to sink to his knees and make her come with just his mouth, but he's working on borrowed time here and the show should be ending soon.

Later maybe, there might be time for that.

"Have you ever had anyone do this for you?" He begins conversationally, slipping her fingers to the side and probing at her with a single digit, making sure that she's ready.

Caroline shakes her head with a soft whimper, and he smiles against her neck as he slips his finger inside her fully. She clenches around him at the intrusion, a vice like grip that has him surprised.

She mentioned that it had been awhile, and he's determined to make her feel good.

"I want you to watch yourself come undone." He says gruffly as his eyes meet hers in the mirror. Her lips are parted, her cheeks a rosy red, her pupils blown wide as he strokes her languorously.

He takes note of her reactions, other hand covering hers on the counter as he rocks his hips against hers. Caroline's eyes widen at the feeling of him pressing into her back as she lets out a soft moan.

Somewhat warily, he twists his finger and adds a second, trapping her gaze as he works her to the very brink. Her breath catches for a moment and her whole body seems to shudder, clenching around his fingers once more as she rides out her pleasure with a soft, contented sigh.

It's enough for him.

* * *

><p>He's not expecting anything to happen tonight. They'd advanced in leaps and bounds this evening alone, and he's happy with how the night panned out, happy that she was brave enough to come to him.<p>

He'd left her at her suite before returning to his, pouring himself a drink and taking a seat in front of the newly stoked fire. He'd discarded his shoes and socks and tie as soon as he was able to, fingers working at the buttons of his shirt as he knocked back his drink.

He'd left the door to his suite slightly ajar though, on the off chance that she did decide to come to him tonight.

His phone buzzes from the desk and with a sigh he gets up and scoops it up. It's a message from his father, blunt and to the point as ever.

_Call me please. _

He types a quick message out to Thomas, promising to call in the morning after he'd had a proper sleep. He rests his temple against the cool glass of the window, staring out into the silent grounds of the palace.

Everything is still and quiet and calm and it's so strange to be able to close his eyes and not have to worry about whether he'll wake up or if he'll die from a bullet being lodged between his eyes.

The sound of his door hitting the doorframe has him turning quickly, hand twitching towards the top drawer of the desk where he keeps his gun when it's not on his body.

In the dim light, Caroline looks almost like a mirage, golden hair shining through the darkness as she locks the door and crosses the room slowly.

"You came." He remarks in surprise, because he honestly wasn't expecting her tonight. He notes her attire, the fact that she's wrapped up in a robe with probably very little on underneath and his heartbeat quickens.

"My choice remember?" She points out teasingly as he smiles down at her. He's surprised then when she reaches up hesitantly, twining her arms around his waist and burying her face into his chest.

He sighs, gentle hands pressing against her back and shoulders as he rests his chin on top of her head.

He waits as she steps away, more than willing for her to make the first move as she bites her lip and peeks up at him through her eyelashes.

"You really need to learn to start meeting me halfway you know." She murmurs.

He meets her halfway. And he does so with the knowledge that she's _ready, _that she might be scared but she's willing to try, to see what a future with him might look like, not just with him on her arm but with him in her bed as well.

He grips her around the waist, sitting her on the desk and sweeping his belongings to the side. He doesn't stop to see where they land, choosing to lavish kisses along her neck and shoulder as he admires the ice blue bra she has on.

She seems more than content to sit there and let him have his wicked way with her, her hands tugging occasionally at his hair as he snaps her bra strap against her skin and runs his fingers through her golden curls.

He jumps slightly when she leans forward and begins to undo the rest of his shirt buttons, unused to having someone so close to him, let alone touch him and press gentle kisses to each of his scars and battle wounds as he shrugs out of his shirt.

His mind is running a mile a minute as he picks her up and takes her to his bed. And he tries not to over think it, as he runs through all the positions that he wants to try with her.

He's not a monk by any means, well experienced with women growing up. His first had been a girl called Tatia, a distant cousin of Katherine Petrova's who had lived close by to Chatsworth. Tatia had been his first serious relationship, and they'd lasted for three years before they'd amicably parted and gone their separate ways.

There had been others after Tatia, brief snatches of time while he'd been on leave. Never anything serious, though, just one offs here and there with two others.

It's Caroline that brings him back to the present, belt off and pants around his ankles before he can blink as she smirks up at him victoriously.

He slides up the bed, resting his back against the headboard and gripping both of Caroline's hands gently as she swings a leg over his hips and settles in. She looks uncertain, unsure what to do as she presses her his into his.

He rests his head against the headboard and squeezes his eyes shut at the sensation, because shit that feels good and it's been far too long for him as well.

He reaches around behind her and unclasps her bra quickly, pulling the material from her body and discarding it over the side of her bed. He presses a gentle kiss to her shoulder, before ghosting his lips along her collarbone and between the valley of her breasts.

She can feel her fingers scrape through his hair and tug gently, and he files that away for future reference because she seems to enjoy pulling at his hair.

He rolls them and she goes with a surprised gasp, splayed out beneath him, hair scattered across his sheets and honestly he'd never seen anything more beautiful than her like this right now.

He buries his face into the crook of her neck, one hand reaching between them to tug at her panties, pulling them from her and depositing them over the side of the bed. Their bed.

He wastes no time divesting himself of his boxers, kissing a line up her body, nuzzling at her stomach as her hips arch up off the bed. Another sensitive spot that he files away in the deepest corner of his mind.

He takes his time once more, because he has time, endless amounts of it stretching out until the morning comes. But as much as Caroline is obviously enjoying this his lips worshipping every part of her body on display she wants more, soft little gasps and moans taking on a frustrated edge.

He rolls away from her for only a moment, reaching for the condom on his nightstand. They hadn't discussed contraception, something he probably should have done earlier in foresight. All the same, he wasn't taking any chances with her.

Her laughter is like music to his ears when his lips return to hers, propping a pillow underneath her as he smoothes the hair away from her forehead. She looks beautiful like this, skin flushed with a healthy glow, eyes bright as she blinks up at him and he has to ask if this is okay, if he hasn't pushed to far, if they're okay.

Her nod is all he needs to push into her slowly, and she's clenching around him tightly, resisting him with a soft gasp.

He stills above her, propping himself up on an elbow as he presses a gentle kiss to her cheek.

"Breathe Caroline. In and out." He dances his other hand across her cheek, fingers tracing gently across her collarbone and down her sternum.

He watches carefully as she squeezes her eyes shut, taking in the sensation of him and trying to even out her breathing. He inches forward a little deeper, and she grips his shoulders and nods to herself.

He distracts her with a kiss and a snap of his hips, and her eyes fly open at the sensation of him filling her so deeply, frown giving way to a lazy smile.

"That feels good." She murmurs, as she shifts beneath him, heel tracing up the back of his thigh and digging into his butt.

"It's supposed to love." He replies with a quick grin, pulling back slightly before thrusting into her once more. And it's easy, surprisingly easy to set a rhythm, her hips meeting his with each gentle roll.

It's a push and pull, give and take, and unlike anything he's ever experienced before. Her breathing is coming ragged again, and she's close now as she presses a clumsy kiss to his neck.

He grips her hands in his, raising them above her head as he presses her down into the mattress with his chest, snapping his hips forward until she's gasping his name against his shoulder, body stilling for a moment before her back arches off the mattress.

He releases her hands, burying his face into her neck, the feeling of her around him so tight and wet enough to pull him over the edge after her.

In the after, once he's taken care of disposal and the sweat is cooling on their bodies he pulls her into his arms, tucking the sheet carefully in around her.

She's rambling now, and he can't even hear her because he's so tired, a bone deep exhaustion that hasn't seemed to have left him since he's woken up. He'll probably sleep through to the morning now, unusual for him.

"Stay." He murmurs sleepily as she curls herself further around him, one leg tangling through his own as she presses a cheek to his chest, listening to his heartbeat.

"Always."

* * *

><p><strong>AN: Aaand I'm back. I was sick as a dog last weekend and wasn't really in the mood to write tbh. <strong>

**But I've been working on this throughout the week and finally finished it today. So hope you all enjoy. This was basically Chapter 17 of Uneasy Lies from Klaus' point of view. **

**I've been keeping track of all your requests, and will endeavour to do them in the order that they were requested. Some of them may be shorter than others, simply because I can't imagine them being thousands of words long. Hope this is okay!**

**See you on the other side! Sorry if this chapter sucked! I'm still practicing my smut writing it would seem. **


	4. Chapter 4 (For Peanutmm)

**Disclaimer: I do not own The Vampire Diaries or its characters. If I did, The Originals would never have happened, Kol would be alive and happily causing mayhem somewhere, and Klaus and Caroline would be travelling the world and sexing it up. **

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><p>He remembers reading somewhere that sleep makes you look younger. It smoothes away all your worries, takes the weight you're carrying around from your shoulders, brings back the innocence you lost long ago.<p>

Somewhere in that rumpled state between dreaming and waking you shed the years like an old sweater, the wrinkles from your brow fade, even if only slightly, temporarily.

He's seen it sometimes, with some of the younger members of his unit, the ones that were fresh out of specialised training, that hadn't _quite _mastered the art of catching sleep whenever and wherever they could. But when they did, wearied and worn from the miles long marches and the constant threat of danger they looked so achingly young, too young to be doing what they were.

It was the same he realised, with Caroline. He doesn't think he'll ever get used to calling her his wife, wonders just how he got so lucky, how he as a person was the one that she found so attractive, the one that she wanted to share her life with.

He likes to watch her sleep sometimes. And not in a creepy, stalkerish kind of way thank you very much. Sometimes when he's still hazy from loss of awareness, when he's beginning his long, slow drag into consciousness he cracks one eye open and watches her.

She likes sleeping on her side as she faces in towards the centre of their shared bed, one arm thrown out towards him. And he likes to check that the gentle rise and fall to her chest is still there, still constant, because he's still so young but he's seen the light fade out of far too many pairs of eyes, seen the stilling of their chests as they drew their last breath.

She looks beautiful this morning, golden sunlight back lighting her curls, giving her an otherworldly glow. It's a shocking contrast against the brilliant white sheets that they'd wasted no time in thoroughly creasing and messing up the previous evening.

There's a slight frown on her face, and with a gentle finger he traces down her forehead, thumb swiping gently against her cheekbone. He watches eyelashes flutter at the sensation, another frown tugging at her skin as she tries to figure out what's happening.

With a sleepy sigh she shifts slightly, turning and burying her face into the closest pillow. He smiles fondly as she does so, leaning over and pressing a gentle kiss to her temple.

_Lucky _he reminds himself again as he slips on a pair of boxers and leaves her to her slumber.

Their bungalow is as lavish as expected for visiting European royalty, tropic locale sheltered and private and luxurious. The view as he steps outside is nothing short of picturesque, infinity pool giving way to clear blue water and white sands.

He has half a mind to put on a pair of shorts and go for a run, but doesn't want to startle Caroline with his absence when she finally wakes up. He settles instead, for grabbing a piece of fruit and his sunglasses and making his way over to one of the loungers by the pool.

The stretch of beach is theirs alone, Elijah making sure they'd have nothing but the utmost privacy when he'd arranged this destination for them. They'd checked in under different names as well, the only ones aware of their true identities being the owner of the resort and one or two trusted senior staff members.

Qirevia was a small enough country that most wouldn't be able to recognise him or Caroline upon sight immediately.

He should probably check his phone, sort through all the messages from his family and probably from his father as well, but there'd be time for that later. He settles instead, for resting his head against the lounger and slowly drifting off to sleep again, coastal breeze a soothing lullaby in the background.

It's the click of a camera phone that has him startling awake, the musical laugh that accompanies the sound immediately putting him at ease a Caroline slides the phone into the pocket of her robe with a mischievous smile.

He holds out his arms for her in invitation as she crawls onto the lounger with him. But rather than settling in against his chest as he expected she would she instead swings a leg over him, settling in quite comfortably as she straddles his lap.

He can't help it; his eyebrows leap towards his hairline as her hands grip his shoulders gently. He's still getting used to this, the moments of unexpected boldness that come over her sometimes.

"Good morning." She whispers softly, perhaps not wanting to disturb the peaceful scene laid out before them. She reaches out and plucks his sunglasses from the bridge of his nose, depositing them carefully on the glass table next to them.

She's all he can see though, and somehow, it's more than enough for him.

"It is." He replies gently, hands spanning her waist over the material of her robe.

An almost tender expression comes over her face as she smoothes some of his hair away from his forehead.

"Everything okay?" She asks, again keeping her voice low, content to stay in their own little bubble.

And he knows instantly what she's asking, not just if he's okay on the surface but if he really is okay. It seems that she knows his internal body clock better than he does sometimes.

The PTSD still lingers. They usually avoid having fireworks around the palace for celebrations, and although he's commander in chief he's learned to school his expressions well when he's at military ceremonies, the loud rapport of the guns enough to make him twitchy and uneasy.

He can pretty much sleep through most nights now, and last night was no different. But sometimes it catches him, holds him in its crushing grip.

"I'm fine." He reassures her, and watches as her face transforms with relief. "I was awake and decided to catch some sunshine." He adds lightly, gracing her with a smile, one he keeps saved just for her, when they're alone like this.

"You're not too tired then?" She asks innocently, hands rubbing gently over his shoulders and chest, eyes dipping down appreciatively for a moment.

She shifts slightly, hips bearing down into his and the friction is delicious.

"Hmm." He murmurs thoughtfully as he tugs on a curl, wrapping the hair around his fingers gently. "Depends. What did you have in mind?"

She reaches into the pocket of her robe, a foil wrapped square held between elegant fingers.

"Only if you're up for it of course." She says with another wicked smile, and he thinks that he falls in love with her even more if possible.

So he lets her reach for the waist band of his boxers, lifting her hips so he can reach down and tug them off his legs. He doesn't see where they end up and he doesn't really care, instead reaching for the belt of her robe and untying it quickly.

Caroline reaches down and strokes him, a gentle flush still staining her cheeks that will probably only go away with time. All the same he watches as she rolls the condom onto his length. They hadn't even had a chance to discuss children and when they might start trying for one. As such, they're yet to have unprotected sex, and it'll probably be awhile before they do.

There's no preamble, or no foreplay, and as he very quickly discovers as Caroline lowers herself onto his length with a soft sigh, she wasn't wearing any panties under that robe. He's sort of proud.

They both take it slow, Caroline resting her forehead gently against his as she breathes shakily against his neck. It's not making love and it's not quite the raw, desperate fucking that had taken place up against the wall and then on the bed the night before.

It's quiet, easy, contained as they move against each other almost lazily, breeze tickling their skin and the sound of the waves crashing against the shore in the background peaceful and reassuring.

He has all the time in the world he realises, all the time he would ever need to be with her.

And when she peaks it's with his name on her lips, and again he has to marvel at just how goddamn lucky he is.

* * *

><p>"You know I don't think I've ever asked you about this tattoo." She says over the splashing of water as she latches onto his back like a koala bear.<p>

He drifts aimlessly around the infinity pool with her as the sun tracks lazily across the sky. He'll probably tan from this later, but he'll have to watch that Caroline doesn't burn.

The tattoo in question is a lion and an eagle surrounding the official seal of Qirevia.

"Nothing special love." He returns lightly as he ducks down briefly into the water, enjoying her alarmed squeal as her arms tighten around his neck. "It's a standard tattoo that you'll find most members of the Special Forces have on their body."

"But I thought Special Forces weren't supposed to have tattoos?" She asks confusedly, because it's a common misconception. In fact in a lot of countries their black ops and Special Forces soldiers were strictly forbidden from having any distinguishing tattoos that could give away their identities in the field.

"As long as it's not in a visible location it's allowed. You're thinking of British SAS." He corrects her, tapping her on the arm to get her to let go of him.

She acquiesces and he turns, looming over her as she stares up at him in bemusement.

"And what about your tattoo love? Don't think I haven't seen it."

He reaches out and runs a finger along the small sparrow marked on her ribs. She shrugs dismissively.

"A small act of rebellion when I finally turned 18 and went off to college. My mother never did find out, but it was a small victory for me."

He has to marvel at her resourcefulness though, especially how she managed to get it when she was constantly surrounded by bodyguards, and how on earth she swore them to secrecy.

"I may have bribed one of my bodyguards with an expensive bottle of whisky from the cellar of the palace. What my mother didn't know wouldn't hurt her."

He swipes his thumb over the sparrow again, sitting just below the band of her bikini top.

"What does it mean?" He asks as she backs towards the wall and pulls herself suddenly out of the water. He watches her carefully as she wrings the water from her hair before flipping it over her shoulder.

"A couple of things. But I guess it represents the freedom that I never did get to have."

His heart aches for her a little, because he honestly can't imagine what it would have been like for her, growing up with a dead father and a distant, cold mother, her path in life already picked out for her. It's amazing that she's turned out the way she has, even if she wasn't really one to show her emotions to anyone but him really.

They're a perfect match for each other in that instant.

He levers himself out of the pool with one arm, settling in next to her on the edge, legs dipped into the cool blue water.

They're both silent for a moment, both staring out to the ocean stretched out before them, water a brilliant blue.

"Not anymore." He promises her. "Now you can have whatever you like."

He's not sure if he's gotten through to her, but she rests her head against his shoulder anyway, letting out a deep exhale.

"Honestly." She begins, lacing her fingers through his. "Where have you been all my life?"

He rests his cheek against the top of her head, hair already turning warm from the sun.

"Waiting for you it would seem."

* * *

><p>"Where do you think you'd be if you hadn't taken the job?" She asks curiously, glass of wine in one hand as she hums along to the Kodaline track playing from his iPod.<p>

He shifts slightly from behind her, back resting against the edge of the sunken bath. It's not really a bath, larger than average, almost the size of a Jacuzzi. Despite all the space, she's decided to sit between his legs, head resting heavy against his chest with her hair piled messily on top of her head in a bun.

He's not complaining in the slightest.

He falls silent at her question; because it's one that he's thought about constantly, before it was clear that he was in it for the long haul with her.

"Probably back in the Forces." He admits, dancing his fingers along her shoulder. "In the beginning I always thought of my position with you as only temporary."

He feels her body stiffen beneath his fingers, and feels the sudden need to reassure her as he smoothes gentle fingers down her arm idly, distracted somewhat by the conversation at hand.

"But as time went on I realised just how good it was for me, being around other people, being able to have a routine."

She nods, taking a sip from her wine as she repositions her head on his chest.

"Would your really have gone back to the forces after everything that happened?" She asks quietly, knowing what she knew now about just how bad things were for him in the earlier days.

"Maybe, maybe not." He concedes with a tilt of his head. "They probably would never have allowed me to be in an active field position again. Maybe a desk job?" He muses out loud.

He reaches around her to the shelf beside them, where his own glass of wine still sits waiting, sides dewy with condensation.

"Maybe we would have met in an official capacity. That would've been interesting." She points out with a laugh as he shakes his head.

There would have been nothing interesting about it really. It would have been formal, a little stiff, and she would have passed on her way within 30 seconds of meeting him, none the wiser about his background.

They would have had very little to do with each other, if they even crossed paths at all. Such are the limitations of royal protocol in Qirevia, or so it had been so during that particular period of time.

Caroline falls silent for a long moment as she downs the rest of her wine, setting her glass back on the shelf. She reaches down beneath the waterline, tangling her fingers with his.

"Let's go dancing." She declares suddenly.

"Okay." He agrees suddenly, and he wishes he could see the surprised expression that's sure to cross her face in that moment.

She twists her body to face him, delighted smile on her face.

"There's hope for you yet Niklaus Windsor." She tells him seriously, pressing a quick kiss to his cheek before gripping the side of the bath and standing up carefully.

He watches her go with a lazy smile, taking his time as he finishes his wine.

He is twenty eight years old, and married, and happy.

And that ache in his chest is starting to heal, as he realises that _this _is what he's been missing out on all these years.

* * *

><p><strong>AN:<strong>

**I'm actually quite relieved that this chapter is over, because I did struggle quite a bit with writing it, mainly because it deviated from the story in quite a big way. **

**Klaus' PTSD was something that I didn't really get to touch on a lot in Uneasy Lies, but it formed such a large part of his character in my eyes at least. Getting to explore that a little bit more in this particular story has been so good. **

**In my head, Klaus' music taste is very varied, and he's a total hipster haha. **


	5. Chapter 5 (For Sage)

**Disclaimer: I do not own The Vampire Diaries or its characters. If I did, the Originals would never have happened, Kol would be alive and happily causing mayhem somewhere, and Klaus and Caroline would be travelling the world and sexing it up**

* * *

><p>He likes to think that he has that ability to be at ease in pretty much any situation. That's what he's been raised to do, first by Thomas and then by The Forces.<p>

So he's quite surprised to find that he's a lot more jittery than usual, and dare he say it he might even be a little nervous.

He's not sure why. It's not as if this is a job interview where he has to prove himself and his abilities. He's already come highly recommended from Elijah, which was surprising enough as is.

His father had also rang ahead to put in a good word for him at the office, his name carrying a fair bit of weight in the palace despite the fact he worked more often in the army.

But then again, similar to England, most of the men that guarded the Queen came from Special Forces backgrounds similar to his own, trained to react in adverse and unusual situations.

He hides his shaking hands by stuffing them into the pockets of his jeans, trying to appear relaxed as two palace security lead him through the carpeted hallways. He glances around his surroundings with interest, hoping that Rebekah might pop out from somewhere to come and say hello.

"The Queen is in the middle of hosting the Autumn Party. The only reason why she agreed to see you today was at Elijah's insistence. What did you say your name was again?" One of the younger guards asks, sniffing though his nose towards him.

"Niklaus Windsor actually."

He doesn't bother to elaborate, knowing that the two guards can fill in the blanks. Influential family, connection to the Mikaelson's, revered and decorated father.

The younger security guard looks chastened at his answer, mouth opening and closing as the older one just rolls his eyes and pushes open the door leading out to the gardens.

"As Elliot has said, the Queen is hosting the annual Autumn Party in the main garden. Feel free to have a drink and have a wander around. If it's too much for you, the Lesser Garden is just down to the left. I can check in with Ben and have him bring the Queen to you."

The sympathetic look from the older man has him looking back in interest.

"If it's not too much trouble I would prefer that. What branch?" He asks after a moment as Elliot glances between the two of them curiously.

"Navy. Qirevia Amphibious Corps actually. Captain Andrew Robinson at your service. And yourself?"

"Colonel Niklaus Windsor. Retired SAS. Do you work on the Queen's detail?"

"Not directly. I train all the younger lads that come through, show them the ropes and everything."

Andrew claps him on the shoulder as they descend the stairs and onto the pebbled path. He gives a nod of thanks as Andrew directs him down the path towards the aforementioned Lesser Garden.

It's beautiful in a tranquil sort of way he supposes, a smaller and far more intimate space than the rose garden that the party was being held in.

He takes a seat on the stone bench looking out over a smaller pond, hands gripped tightly on his knees.

He doesn't have to wait long.

He can hear her approaching before she probably even sees him, voice floating towards him as she converses back and forth with one of her bodyguards.

He stands, tugging at his jacket and slipping his aviators into the inside pocket of his jacket. He bows at the waist, just as his father had taught him when he'd been younger and learning about all the rules and protocols surrounding the Royal Court.

She returns his bow with a stiff nod of acknowledgement, perhaps not realising exactly what he's here for. He hides his frown at that, making a mental note to check in with Elijah in regards to just how much he'd discussed this with the Queen.

"Nik!" The man behind her calls, and his eyes flick immediately to the younger man. He recognises Lance Corporal Benjamin Taylor instantly, his face being a hard one to forget.

They'd served together in Afghanistan briefly, and their platoon had come under fire while trying to liberate a city from Al Qaeda. Ben had been shot, and he'd carried the younger man over his shoulder until they'd reached safety.

Ben moves towards him, reaching out a hand for him to shake. He takes it, gripping firmly before holding his arms out to his side, allowing Ben to pat him down for any concealed weapons.

He was licensed to carry a weapon around the country, but by law only hired bodyguards of the Queen could carry around her. Ben it seemed was just one of many.

Ben turns back to the Queen, running a hand through his hair with a sheepish smile.

"Forgive me ma'am. Niklaus is an old friend of mine. We served together in the Middle East and it's been a very long time since I've seen him."

The Queen looks taken aback if anything, glancing back towards him with a surprised look on her face.

"Niklaus Windsor?" She asks somewhat faintly.

He and Ben glance at each other before nodding in confirmation. While the Queen takes the time to gather herself, he takes the time to study her.

She is beautiful, all of the people that had told him so had been correct in that aspect. Her legs go on for miles, her hair is perfectly curled, and those green eyes are looking back at him curiously.

He notes the absence of a crown or tiara with interest, something that seemed permanently affixed to the head of her mother.

"You are most welcome at the Palace Lord Niklaus." She replies a little stiffly as he steps towards her. She holds her hand out for him and he can't help but smirk a little as he presses his lips to the back of her hand.

It feels all very archaic and outdated, but he'll go with it if it causes a full body shiver like the one he'd pretended not to notice.

"Will you walk with me my lord?" She enquires softly, and with just those words he's reminded why he hates Court so much, all of the protocol and etiquette that comes with it.

He gestures for her to lead the way, clasping his hands behind his back as they begin to walk. He waits for her to fill the silence, not exactly sure whether he's supposed to talk first or wait for her to begin.

"Elijah mentioned that you'd just returned from a tour of duty. Are you happy to be home?" She asks again quietly.

The thing that surprises him the most is how softly spoken she is. For all of the rumours that surround her he'd expected her to be unstoppable, a force of nature that can't be contained, elevated to a position she'd born into.

He gives her a strained smile, still not up for talking about his time serving overseas.

"I've got a lot of spare time on my hands; it's quite unusual for me. I was surprised when Elijah said that you wanted to meed with me." He replies formally, hands still clasped firmly behind his back.

He pauses for a moment next to the flowerbeds, reaching down to pluck one of the orchids from its spot. He turns and presents it to her palms up, taking note of the gentle blush staining her cheeks as she reaches out and takes it, fingers brushing together as her eyes flick towards his.

He'd been brought up on the meaning of flowers, an interesting if not useless study that his father had passed onto him. Learning the different properties of plants had also been useful to him in combat situations, when he'd been low on food and had to sustain himself for a couple of days.

Purple has always been the colour of royalty, representative of her station. It can also come to represent admiration and respect.

"Camel spiders." He says suddenly, a smile escaping as he watches her tilt her head to the side, twirling the stem of the orchid between her fingers.

"Sorry?" She asks in confusion as he chuckles.

"It was just one of the things I disliked about the desert. Camel spiders are as big as a dinner plate." He replies, using his hands to measure the span of the critters that had plagued his unit for weeks. "You had to check your boots before putting them on. Hurts like hell when you get bitten as well."

He hasn't realised it but they're drifting slowly towards the party, and he can see her take a deep breath as if to prepare herself for entering back into the social situation.

Maybe he had misjudged her after all.

"I've met all of your half siblings. I'm very surprised that we haven't crossed paths before. Do you and your father usually attend events at court?" She asks politely as they pause to a couple of partygoers slip past them, deep in conversation.

"My father and I choose to avoid the Palace and the families that frequent it as much as possible. I figure it'd be best if I left the politics to Kol."

"Yes Kol has proven to be most adept when it comes to politics. He's also extremely good at keeping himself in the spotlight. I fear it will be to his detriment one day."

Out of all of his siblings, younger brother Henrik included, it's probably Kol that he worries about the most. While Elijah is supposedly more than able to take care of himself, and Rebekah is safely ensconced in the palace, Kol is more in the public eye than any of his other siblings.

An incredibly charming and popular politician, Kol had risen fast after college and hadn't looked back. He'd seemed content to use the Mikaelson name to the fullest advantage, a steady stream of women at his side at various events and functions and seen out on the town with him.

"You and I share that same fear ma'am. Forgive me, was there a particular reason that you agreed to meet with me, or was it just idle curiosity?"

It's at the very least quite blunt, and she looks quite taken aback for a moment before smiling brilliantly at him.

It lights up her entire face, and he can actually see why people think of her as beautiful.

"Actually I did want to talk to you about employment."

"Let's talk then." He replies lightly, waving her further into the party. She snags two glasses of champagne from a passing waiter, passing one over to him as they pause beneath a tree.

She's still holding the purple orchid in her other hand, and she takes a sip of champagne to steady herself.

"There was an attempt on my life last week." She begins, and he tilts his head towards her. "And I never thought this was something that I would have to deal with, and I think I'm only just starting to come to terms with just how much of a mess my mother left behind. Ben is great, but he's young. Elijah wanted someone a little older, a little more experienced in dealing with life threatening situations. He suggested you. Are you in a position that you're able to take up the role?"

"What exactly would that involve?" He asks politely.

She outlines it quickly, and it's fairly straight forward.

He would work five days on and two off, depending on what her calendar looked like on the weekend. He would accompany her on all official outings and functions outside of the palace, and some inside of it as well.

Elijah wanted a tail; someone around her at all times to ensure her safety. He would get time off and time to himself, free food and board at the palace, and a generous salary to support himself given his position.

He runs a hand through his hair with a quick smile, putting his champagne down on a side table.

"I was discharged from the forces after sustaining an injury and PTSD." He tells her honestly, bluntly. "I'm not in a position to guarantee your safety at this point in time."

"Elijah suspected that you'd say something like that." She says with a sigh. "And nothing we say can change your mind?"

"I'm sorry for wasting your time. I thought I was ready but…"

"I wish I could say that I understand. But I'm afraid that I've never been in your situation." She replies with a wearied smile, and he sees the dark smudges under her eyes that he hadn't noticed before.

"Have you been sleeping okay?" He asks curiously as her eyes dart towards him in surprise.

"Why would you ask me that?" She returns a little sharply, and he tilts his head towards her in apology, realising that he's stepped out his place.

"You seem… tired. Like you're trying to fit too much into the day. My father calls it burning the candle at both ends." He quips with a quick smile. "It's completely normal you know, to be affected by a traumatic event."

He watches a careful smile settle over her face, expression guarded so any around them wouldn't realise that anything was amiss. She was _good _at this. Better than what he was expecting her to be.

"I don't know what you're talking about." She finally replies quietly.

He doesn't bother to reply, instead offering her a low bow. He's already overstayed his welcome, already the recipient of curious stares from other members of other great families.

To them he's the prodigal Windsor son, raised away from Court, doing god knows what only to return years later. Of course, barely any of them would know his history of what he'd done in Special Forces.

"I'm sorry again, for wasting so much of your time." He begins lightly, fingers smoothing over the surface of the table. "I hope you find someone that is better suited for the position than I am."

He has to wait for her to dismiss him; he would never dare or presume to turn his back on the Queen so rudely. She does so with a short, sharp nod, and he steps backwards first before turning on his heel and making his way around the edge of the party.

It's not until he's loosening his tie and running a hand through his carefully slicked back hair that he lets out a breath he hadn't even realised he'd been holding.

* * *

><p><strong>AN: <strong>

**So there were quite a few of you that requested this scene between Klaus and Caroline. I put Sage's name on the chapter because she did get in first, but this goes out to everyone that asked me to write this bad boy. **

**I've really enjoyed delving into Klaus' character a little more and picking him apart and discovering just what makes him tick.**

**Klaus' first impression of Caroline is not what he expected. To me, I think he went into this expecting her to be a spoilt, selfish brat but was quite surprised when that didn't turn out to be true. **

**We see a bit of Caroline's stubbornness come through here when she refuses to admit to Klaus that she was affected by the first attempt on her life. Of course, Klaus was overstepping his bounds there as well, but he's always been overly observant in this universe, it's what he's been trained to do. **

**Klaus said no for a combination of reasons. The first of course, was that he just didn't feel ready to take up such a position of responsibility so soon after being discharged. Second, he didn't feel comfortable in that environment, being back amongst all of the politics and the dealings that go on at Court. And third, he felt sort of manipulated into taking the role by Elijah and even his father a little bit, and this was his way of taking back some of that power by saying no. **

**He comes around later as we all know well! ;) **


	6. Chapter 6 (For NikMik)

**Disclaimer: I do not own The Vampire Diaries or its characters. If I did, The Originals would never have happened, Kol would be alive and happily causing mayhem somewhere, and Klaus and Caroline would be travelling the world and sexing it up. **

**This chapter is set between the end of Chapter 11 and the beginning of Chapter 12. It's sometime after Christmas and sometime before the New Year.**

* * *

><p>There's a throne room in the palace, of course there is. It's been there for hundreds of years now, intimidating in its opulence, staggering in its sheer size. In fact, it's second in size only to the palace ballroom, and it has the ability to swallow up even the biggest of personalities.<p>

Nowadays it's really only used for ceremonial purposes, and he knows for a fact that Caroline hates sitting the throne, even if it is her birthright.

So he's surprised of course, when after a thorough search of the palace in a slight panic, he finds her sitting on the throne, staring up at the roof in deep contemplation.

He pauses at the threshold of the door, eyes turned towards the same ceiling. It's painted by a revered Renaissance artist, cherubs and angels tumbling across it in a dizzying and marvellous tapestry. He can't possibly pinpoint what she finds so interesting about the roof.

"You shouldn't go wandering off without telling anyone love." He voices cautiously, stepping further into the room, shoes clicking against the marble as he drifts slowly towards her.

He's obviously startled her if the way that she inhales sharply is any indication. He smiles apologetically, hands held out in a placating gesture as she motions for him to come closer.

He'd been keeping a careful eye on her since her friends had been around to help her celebrate Christmas. She'd been quieter than usual since then, and although it wasn't exactly alarming behaviour it had been a cause for concern. In a rare act of trust he had shared his observations with Elijah, who had immediately agreed to lighten her schedule to almost nothing.

"I guess I just wanted some time to myself." She finally replies tiredly, rubbing at her eyes with a sigh. She shifts uncomfortably from her spot on the throne as he pauses at the foot of the dais, reluctant to climb those steps and join her, fearful as ever that he'll cross some sort of invisible line with her.

"Is everything alright?" He questions softly, giving her room to refuse if needed. He'd very quickly learned since beginning their relationship that Caroline was a person that kept things bottled up.

An intensely private person, Caroline could count on one hand the number of people that she could truly trust and confide in. He hoped that he could be one of that number with time, even if he wasn't right now.

"Elijah wanted me to have a ball. For New Years Eve. But I told him no." She says suddenly, startling him from his thoughts.

"No one can blame you for refusing love." The endearment rolls off his tongue far too easily nowadays, but Caroline seems to like it, a ghost of a smile flitting across her face. "It's been a busy time for you. You need your rest as well."

She stands suddenly, drifting down the steps towards him and settling in on the bottom one. He immediately settles in next to her, bringing himself down to her level.

It's an odd view of the room, the parquet marble floor and the rich red carpet leading back towards the door closer than they've ever been. It takes a few seconds to realise that he's seeing this room from Caroline's perspective.

"I didn't refuse for that reason." Caroline returns awkwardly. "Although that's the excuse I used."

He watches her wrap her hands around her knees, squeezing gently. He waits for her to elaborate further, choosing not to interrupt her. Her being this open and transparent is rare enough as is.

"Elijah wanted it to be this really traditional Qirevian thing. You know, one of those balls where we bust out all of the traditional Qirevian folk dances, like The Laendler."

"Ah yes the Laendler. The stuff of nightmares, truly. It was the source of much frustration during the enforced dancing lessons when I was growing up at Chatsworth."

She hides her giggle in her fist and he shares in her delight at the thought of a younger him learning to dance a traditional Qirevian folk dance.

Tradition was something that was deeply important to the Qirevian people. They lived by it, thrived from it as each year passed. They were also a country that was intensely proud of their history, and their art, and their culture. Qirevian folk dances were just one way of keeping connected to their past.

"I don't know how to do The Laendler." She finally admits out loud. "I'm the Queen of this entire country and I can't even do a traditional folk dance."

It all seems to fall into place in instant, pieces of the puzzle finally coming together as he takes in the slump of her shoulder, the frown creasing her brow, the tone of her voice as she had delivered her previous sentence.

The problem wasn't that Caroline couldn't perform a traditional folk dance, although the self doubt certainly stemmed from this fact.

The problem was that she was doubting herself, and her ability to rule, the ability to hold onto this job for an extended period of time, and the thoughts that she were having would simply not do.

"Well I was expecting something a bit more drastic than that sweetheart. That's an easy fix. I can teach you right now if you'd like."

She turns her head and blinks at him in surprise.

"What right here?" She questions curiously, glancing around the empty room.

"Well unless you have something more thrilling planned then yes, right here." He replies patiently. "You're in a bit of luck; The Laendler is only around 2 minutes long."

Even as he stands, turning to hold out a hand for her she's staring at him like she can't believe what she's hearing, or seeing at this very moment.

But she allows him to pull her to her feet, leading her out onto the marbled floor as he reaches into his phone for his pocket. He thumbs into the YouTube app, searching through The Sound of Music videos for the correct one.

"Did you know that The Sound of Music used The Laendler for the dance scene in their movie? Trying to pass it off as an Austrian folk dance." He shakes his head in disappointment as Caroline smiles briefly.

He talks her through the dance first without music, patiently walking her through all of the intricate steps and twirls required with the partner dance. There's a lot of changing of grips and direction and she seemingly gets incredibly frustrated, at times, but gnashes her teeth and just gets on with hit.

The first time they try with music is nothing short of disastrous, and she almost storms out of the hall then and there until he stops her with a quick kiss and an insistent request that they just try it one more time.

And of course, typically the second time she absolutely nails it.

"Do you think that I'm doing a good job?" She stops suddenly mid twirl, and he has to spin back around to face her. She's breathing heavily, hands balled into fists by her side, and although it was nice for her to take her mind off things he knows that the self doubt is back in full force.

He reaches down and takes her hand, tugging her out of the accursed throne room and out into the hallways of the palace. She comes willingly, and he says nothing as he steers her out of the palace and into the crisp winter air.

It's sunny out, but still cold enough that his breath still mists in front of his face. He steers Caroline by the shoulders to face away from the palace, and watches as she seems to deflate in front of his very eyes.

"Caroline. Do you think I would have taken this job, or would still be working this job if I didn't think that you were doing a good job?" He asks her patiently.

Surprise flickers behind her eyes, as if it's something that she hasn't quite stopped to consider. As a soldier serving his country, he's in a position now where he's no longer duty bound to carry out orders that he has issue with. He has that freedom to stand up and say no, to voice his dissent if he doesn't agree with something or someone.

It seems that Caroline herself is only just realising this now.

"Everyone always tells me how young I am, and how I still have so much to learn before I'll feel comfortable in this role. But sometimes I don't think that I'll ever be comfortable with this." She waves a hand in front of her to encompass the gardens stretching out before their eyes, the faraway stable building and some of the staff quarters beyond that.

"I want to be someone that they can admire. But I don't feel like I can ever be that person." She admits quietly as he steps forward and takes her hands between his.

"And that doubt is what's going to make you a great ruler. It's like anything new; you have to give it time. But I can guarantee that this time next year you will doubt yourself a little less."

"I knew it would be hard." She admits out loud. "But I never thought it would be this difficult. I feel like I'm getting pulled in so many different directions. And no matter what decision I make someone is going to be unhappy about it."

He sighs, bending down to press a kiss to her forehead.

"Caroline, listen to me please. I would not have so much respect for you, and would not care for you as deeply as I do if I did not think that you were doing a good job and that you were the best suited for the role that you've been born into."

She tangles a hand into his coat, nuzzling her head into his chest with a sigh, and really he has to acknowledge that which has been creeping up on him for god knows how many weeks now.

He has well and truly fallen for this girl, for better or for worse. And not just for her beauty, or her wit, or her charm, but for every part of her from the good to the bad to the self loathing.

And honestly he wouldn't have it any other way; even if he knows that the path ahead is going to be long and difficult for both of them to overcome.

"Thanks I guess." She mutters as he rests his chin on her head. "You've always been great at pep talks."

"Part of the job description it would seem. And for the record, it's entirely natural for you to be having doubts about yourself. There's no manual for being the Queen of a small country. But you just have to trust your gut. From my observations it has yet to lead you wrong."

He feels her shiver and wraps an arm around her shoulders to shield her from the worst of the cold. She already seems happier, more content than she'd been a few moments previously. Being away from the throne room had helped her enormously.

"Come on. Let's go light something on fire and watch a shitty movie."

He laughs and presses a kiss to her curls, willing to follow her lead with this one.

* * *

><p><strong>AN: Hey guys *waves* I didn't realise just how long I'd neglected this one for. My apologies!<strong>

**As mentioned above, this is set after Christmas but before New Years Eve. Caroline always seems so confident in her role as Queen, but in this chapter we get a glimpse at the self doubt that follows her around like a storm cloud. **

**I think if I had to pinpoint a moment when Klaus falls for Caroline it would be a quiet time like this, when all of her walls are broken down and he gets to see a part of her that she hides away so carefully from the rest of the world. **

**The Laendler is actually an Austrian folk dance, and it was used in the Sound of Music. It's one of my favourite movies/favourite scenes so of course I had to use this as a small tribute.**

**Billion Lights Chapter is on the way, I'm just finishing up writing it. I probably won't have time to post it tonight, but keep an eye out for it tomorrow definitely. **

**Oh and I've actually created a tumblr for my writing… you can come and find me at ( (xxaftertthestorm)).tumblr((.com)) **

**Obviously just take out all of the brackets around the xxafterthestormxx and the .com**

**Please come and say hello, I promise that I'm super nice!**

**Hope you all enjoyed! **


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